


tangled up in you

by SkylandMountain1013



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Nothing but tooth rotting fluff here, and sexy times, god knows they deserve it, some universe where things are BETTER
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 09:11:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14040936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylandMountain1013/pseuds/SkylandMountain1013
Summary: Melinda May finally takes what she deserves.





	tangled up in you

It takes Melinda May approximately 23 years, 10 months, and 3 days to come to terms with her feelings for Phil Coulson. 

It takes her an additional 3 years, 7 months, and 15 days to do something about it. (She doesn’t count his death. Or her death. Or any of that time travel bullshit.)

The universe has granted them temporary peace. Everyone spends less time saving the world, and more time enjoying the world. 

It’s late one night and she finds him in the common area of their makeshift base, spoon in one hand, carton of ice cream in the other. 

He smiles when he catches her gaze. 

“I’ve died,” he offers. “Twice. I think that deserves Moose Tracks.”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, it’s two quick steps to get in front of him and she’s tossing the ice cream onto the table and kissing him like her life depends on it. (And frankly, at this point, it just might.)

Phil is ramrod straight against her, lips barely moving. The chill in his mouth heats her to the core, and her hands knead at the fabric over his chest. 

She counts to five and breaks the contact. 

The look on his face can only be described as bewilderment- eyes blinking slowly, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. 

“So we’re kissing now,” he says. It’s half question, half statement. 

Melinda shrugs. “No time like the present.”

“Okay.” 

She thinks about laughing at how flustered he is. It’s delightful, really. 

Instead, she gives her best coy smile and licks the remaining ice cream off his spoon. “Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

She pretends not to notice him adjusting his jeans in discomfort. 

——

They do end up doing it again- multiple times actually. 

They function for weeks as an extension of each other. Arms and legs and bodies and very little clothing. 

It’s always kept professional. Late nights, early mornings, times when they’re off duty. 

Except when it’s not. 

Everyone is gathered in their makeshift situation room looking at the latest readout from the latest source filling them in on the latest thing trying to kill them all. Melinda really doesn’t have time for this right now. 

Fitz and Simmons are bickering over the validity of the intel when Phil makes eye contact with her. 

He flicks his gaze once to the door. She nods ever so slightly. 

“Alright,” he breaks in. “Whatever this is, I don’t think it’s coming for us tonight. So I think we call it a day. Mack, you’ve got topside duty. Everyone else, enjoy your evening.”

The team filters out and Phil guides Melinda towards his room, hand against the small of her back. They pick up speed as soon as they’re out of sight, his hand dipping lower to grab the curve of her ass. 

She gets to his door first and dives into his pocket to retrieve the key. 

Her fingers linger and she curls them around the seam of his pants. “Happy to see me?”

“Open the door,” he growls. 

As soon as they cross the threshold he pins her up against the wall. She feels him hard against her thigh. “Ending a briefing early,” he scolds. “That’s so unlike you. What happened to protocol?”

She’d come up with a snide remark, but he’s sucking on the pulse point of her neck and his hands are making short work of her shirt and she’s more than willing to concede this fight. 

Shirt falling to the ground, Phil turns his attention lower. He’s memorized the path from her collarbone to her hips. Scar underneath her left breast, mole just above her navel, ticklish spot on her thigh. He spends ample time on each. 

She hisses out his name as he palms her through her jeans. 

In a moment of clarity, she yanks him back up by the collar of his shirt. He lets out a whimper at the loss of contact. 

“Don’t want to hear about how much your knees hurt tomorrow, old man,” she retorts, pushing him backwards towards the bed. 

Phil looks put out, but allows himself to sink back and roll onto the mattress. 

Melinda positions herself on top of him and starts working on the buttons of his shirt. “Too many clothes on,” she murmurs. 

He nips at the underside of her jaw as she shimmies the fabric off of his arms. Raking her nails down his chest and stomach elicits a groan from him, and she files that away. 

His hips buck up as her hands ghost over the waistband of his pants. It’s not long before his belt hits the floor and he’s tugging the pants and boxers over his legs. 

Melinda grins. “Eager, are we?”

The look he gives back lights her on fire. 

She wastes no time taking him in her mouth. His hands grasp at her hair almost immediately. With each tug she twirls her tongue and hollows her cheeks- a Morse code of pleasure and lust. 

Phil alternates between cursing and moaning and it spurns her to increase her pace. She digs her thumbs into his inner thighs, her legs wrapping around his right knee. Her focus is on him, but her hips start rocking on their own accord. The friction is almost unbearable. 

“Fuck!” Phil grunts. “I’m close- I’m gonna- don’t stopdon’tstopdon’tstop.”

Melinda pulls back slightly, just enough to scrape her teeth across the length of him. 

That’s all it takes. 

He groans her name as she rides out his climax. 

When she crawls back up to meet him, she’s met with half lidded eyes. She watches his chest heave and his fingers twitch. 

“I don’t know why we haven’t done this sooner,” he breathes. His eyes snap open all the way. “Actually. I do. My death. Alien planet. Your death. Killer ghosts. Alternate dimension, robots, space, my death again-“

She claps a hand over his lips. “Better things you could be doing with your mouth, Phil.”

A predatory grin spreads on either side of her palm. 

Suddenly, she’s on her back. 

There’s not much talking after that. 

——-

One morning she’s barely had a chance to make her tea before Daisy bombards her with questions. 

“So,” she says around a mouthful of cereal, “it’s about time.” 

Melinda glares at her through the steam rising from her mug. 

“You and Coulson. It’s a thing, right?”

She really shouldn’t dignify this with an answer. Why the hell is Daisy up this early anyways? She opts for plausible deniability. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, leaning back against the counter. 

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. You two aren’t exactly being quiet about it.” She leans across the table. “So is this new? Or has this been going on for a while? Was it in space? I think we, as a team, deserve some details here.”

“I could still kill you,” Melinda answers flatly. 

“I like my chances.”

She’s able to enjoy her tea for a few moments before Daisy speaks again. “Have you told him you love him yet?” 

Melinda groans in exasperation. “Alright. We’re done.”

“It’s a valid question!” she yells. “I mean it’s obvious how Coulson feels. Guy’s been head over heels for at least a year.” 

She can’t help the small smile that takes up residence. But she also knows what she needs to do. 

Placing the mug in the sink, Melinda moves towards Daisy. “You want to know what’s going on? I suppose I can fill you in.” 

The younger woman nods. 

She leans in close. “Coulson has a magnificent tongue.”

It takes only a second for Daisy’s eyes to widen in horror. “Oh my god.”

Melinda smirks as she leaves. 

———

“That was nice,” Melinda practically purrs. She’s getting used to this feeling of contentment. 

Phil laughs and winds a hand into her hair. “I know you’re not one for words, but that’s the best you could come up with?”

She rolls onto her back and adjusts the sheet over her. Phil follows onto his side, head resting on his hand. 

“So let it be known,” he says slowly, “that I am not questioning the sex here.”

She tracks her eyes to him. “But?”

“Do we need to talk about what this is?” He gestures at the skin between them. 

“It seems fairly obvious.” She nudges him and smirks. She knows she’s deflecting. 

He chuffs out a sigh and and drags a finger over her bicep. “Is it just sleeping together? Or is this a thing with feelings?”

“Phil, I think you know what this is.”

His brows knit and his nose crinkles like it does when he’s deep in thought and God bless him, maybe he somehow doesn’t. 

She pushes him on his back and rolls on top of him- her hair frames his face and she cups his jaw with her hand. 

The words tumble out of her without much resistance. Like she’s been practicing them for 3 years, 7 months, and 24 days. 

“This is everything.”

His eyes light up and his smile soon follows. “Oh.”

Sleep comes soon for them, legs tucked together and arms entangled. 

She feels him mumble I love you against her neck as her consciousness blurs. 

She thinks she’s known for years.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything about this is plechkas fault, THANKS.


End file.
